


Change of Plan

by RebeccaStevenTaylor



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Saving the World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25209577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebeccaStevenTaylor/pseuds/RebeccaStevenTaylor
Summary: The story from God's point of view.God had a Great Plan for the world - it was to end. What could possibly change her mind? It's all a bit - Ineffable.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Change of Plan

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry - this is a bit different from what i usually write - i wanted to explore how Aziraphale and Crowley could influence someone who must always be watching them - God. This story got stuck in my head, and I had to write it.

God made the Garden, and it was good. God made angels, and they were okay too. Most of them. God made Adam and Eve and rather liked them. They’d turned out so well, in the end. Adam was a bit of a talker, but Eve was interesting and together they were good to chat to, and God was longing for a good chat that didn’t involve the metaphysics of the universe. A nice conversation about berries was just the job, and then of course Lucifer had to get jealous, and God got a bit pissed off and well – never mind. You needed balance, in the universe, She found. If you’re going to have an army of light, you needed an army of darkness. How else could light shine so bright, without the dark, She told the angels? But secretly She had been delighted by the rebellion. She was so bored, and that little conflict spiced things up. But now what?

Well. Adam and Eve. They were happy enough but what about the rest of her world? It just sat there, doing nothing. Gabriel said of course they wouldn’t leave the Garden, it was perfection itself, oh Lord, oh most exalted one, and who could bear to be out of your presence? And God left him, muttering something in Enochian which centuries later would be translated by some poor unbelieving scribe as ‘dickhead.’

She told the Angels She had a plan. A Great Plan? they asked. An Ineffable Plan, She replied. A Great Plan, the angels repeated. No-one really knows what Ineffable means anyway (She laughed at that, once She was alone). It was just an idea. Earth was a prototype anyway, nothing but a practice run, and it would probably die off by itself in a millennia or two. She wasn’t all that invested in it. But angels and demons need to be occupied, and an oncoming Armageddon would keep them busy and out of her hair. The whole thing is only a toy, really. Let them play for a while, then we’ll get rid of the whole thing and start again, somewhere new. Let’s give it, oh, 6000 years to play out. And She won’t interfere. She promises. The angels and the demons insist She is not allowed to cause world-altering events. She could strike them all down with a wave of her hand, but She is amused. Alright, let the children play. This is down to you and the demons and the humans. Do what you like. Let’s see what happens.

But nothing happened. It was very boring. By the rules of the game, nothing actually started until Adam and Eve got out of Eden – but they seemed perfectly happy there. The Garden was under her protection, and She could interfere there, if She wished – but nowhere else (under the rules She had set, of course. If She chose, She could interfere in everything, from the fate of entire continents to the taste of the coffee you are holding. She had to give herself boundaries, though. She had seen what happened with unlimited power. She never wanted to see that again). She suspected they’d never leave this sanctuary. It was safe.

So then there was the Tree. Put forbidden fruit that granted secret knowledge in front of her and She would have been on it like a flash, She was sure. If She was made human, of course, so why didn’t they? Because they’re not allowed, the angels said. The demons decided to take a more proactive approach. When the serpent rose up and tempted them, She prepared to smite him for daring to broach her Garden – and then stopped.

_Wait. This might be interesting._

So She watched it play out and saw knowledge dawn in Eve’s eyes. She watched them ordered out, watched them go – with a flaming sword She was sure She hadn’t given them. That was Aziraphale’s sword! How dare he interfere! She prepared to slay him in a fiery – something. She hadn’t decided yet. But when She looked at him – he was talking to a demon. Not fighting. Not even debating. He was talking.

‘I gave it away!’

He gave it away. He was kind. He cared. This went far beyond the parameters for a Principality. She hadn’t created the angel to be like that. How had he changed? She looked at the demon, sheltered under the angel’s wing.

_That’s not part of the plan._

She looked into their hearts, and saw something She had only seen in Adam and Eve’s hearts. A spark of something.

_That’s new._

Really She ought to smite them. The demon had invaded the Garden, the angel was going way off script. She ought to make an example of them. This wasn’t part of her plan.

_Screw the plan. I want to see what happens._

She left them alone.

OoOoO

A while later, She asked Aziraphale what he had done with the flaming sword and he lied. He actually lied to her face! She was delighted. He had a mind of his own, this one. An angel who could think for themself, and a demon who was prepared to stand by his side. What could happen?

_Oh, the hell with it. Let’s throw a cog in the works. My own secret little side plan._

OoOoOoOoOo

And God forgot about the angel and the demon because lo, the humans were bloody awkward. Creative and brilliant and brave, yes, but also argumentative and challenging and just damn difficult. She was beginning to see Lucifer had a point. She occasionally walked amongst them, and was driven to tears by the art, and then by their hatred. She sat at the back of churches, and listened.

_No, that’s not what I said, where are you getting that from?_

Then went to a concert, and listened again.

_There I am. My voice is in your music._

She stopped talking to the angels. She stopped appearing to them, mostly. She walked the Earth, in disguise, and watched her creation grow and falter, squabble and dance, and live, with every beat of their hearts, they lived.

_How are they like this? Their lives are so short, why don’t they give up, knowing Death is coming? Why do they keep trying?_

_How do they keep succeeding?_

And every once in a while She’d catch a trace of an angel in the air, the scent of a demon wafted to her, and She would turn to look. Not interfere, because She had sworn She would never do that, it was against the rules She had set for herself, but watching was allowed.

At first the world was littered with angels and demons all over place, being celestial and ethereal and damned, and all that. But after a while – humans stopped needing them. An angel would appear and say **be not afraid** and the woman they appeared to would tell them to bugger off, she had work to do, she didn’t have time for an angelic message. A demon would try and tempt some poor soul, and this lasted longer, but after a while the demons couldn’t find temptations that were more tempting than the actual world. They retreated back to heaven and hell to scheme and plan and wait for the Great Plan to come to a fiery end.

All except two. Aziraphale, that angel who had exchanged a flaming sword for a kind heart, and that same demon, Crowley he seemed to be calling himself. Who really didn’t seem to hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. In fact, She was sure She’d seen him do a miracle. And what that angel had done in Venice was a pure temptation. What was going on?

That spark in their hearts was a flame now.

OoOoOo

God sat in St James Park. Victoria was on the throne, the Industrial Revolution was happening, the world was changing. But here were ducks and sunshine, and She needed that. She looked down the path.

There they were again, the angel and the demon, together. Walking down the path, talking. Not fighting. They weren’t even discussing theology. They were talking about music. They were – friends. She realised. Somehow they had become friends.

She looked at their hearts. The flame burned brightly, and when Aziraphale looked at Crowley, the flame shot up, and when Crowley’s hand brushed the angel’s the fire burned bright. And yet there was a cage around the flame, keeping it controlled, contained, constrained. Why?

_My angels. My demons. That cage is fear of them and their rules. I never meant for that to happen. That fire should be free._

She transformed into a beggar child as they passed. Aziraphale gave her a shower of silver coins. Crowley stole a sandwich from a gentleman on the bench and passed it to her secretly.

_They are the best of what I have created. But they are afraid and are in danger. How can this be?_

OoOoOoOo

Humans were wonderful. And yet, they were terrible. She walked through Blitzed London in the guise of a WRVS officer, helping where She could, trying not to interfere too much. She had toyed with the idea of stopping all this by making a special guest appearance as Herself – but She didn’t think that would work any more. She would announce in a booming voice that She was God, Lord of All, and some small child would be bound to yell out ‘Yeah? Prove it.’ And some philosopher would question if She had actually any right to command them after all this time and several sects would immediately claim Her as their own, and then start fighting amongst themselves and no doubt several world leaders would set out trying to assassinate Her.

Well. Humans. What could you do? She sat in the crypt of a church as the bombs fell, and comforted a Sikh family hiding amongst the tombstones of early Christians. Nearby a Communist talked to a priest – not about religion, but the best way to get the families who had been bombed out fed the next day. In this time of crisis, they reached out to each other.

_They can be awful. Cruel and violent and selfish and destructive. I can see why my angels want this world ended. And yet – they don’t see what I see, here on Earth. They don’t see the little acts of kindness. They don’t hear the music. They have never stood in front of a painting and wept at its beauty. They have never watched children play the most complicated games for hours. They don’t see them holding each other up. They see only the bombs and the empty churches. They’ve never even read a book._

_I don’t think I want this to end. But I promised not to interfere. How can I change the Great Plan?_

_Where are Aziraphale and Crowley? They’ve been here. They must know._

God reached out for the fire in their hearts. It still burned brightly but now there seemed to be some pain attached. She reached out into their minds, and saw the story of a fight and a long sleep and an estrangement.

_Well, that won’t do at all._

She found herself in a car in Mayfair, and the red-haired occupant sitting still at the steering wheel. He was staring out of the window at nothing. He was thinking of the angel, and not knowing what to do, and tearing himself apart trying to imagine all the ways the angel would reject him if he went back.

_He’s in trouble. He’s in a church and they will hurt him. Save him._

Crowley turned to look at the passenger seat, but it was empty. God, of course, can be invisible when She wishes. He nodded once, sharply, and sped off into the night.

She watched, of course. She watched the rescue, and the books, and saw the flame in their hearts swell into a burning fire, brighter than the sun. Still caged, still with pain, but the flames reached eagerly for each other.

When Crowley got back into the car after it all, in the dawn light, he turned to the empty passenger seat. Of course no one sat there, but he said it anyway.

‘Thank you.’

_You’re welcome_

‘I owe you one.’

_Yes you do. Save my world.’_

OoOoOoOoOoOo

She didn’t interfere, not really. She’d promised not to, and if She did – well – if the angels and demons rose up against her they’d be quite a force. Not that She could be hurt, but She could possibly be defeated and cast out and then what would She do? No-one wants a former God hanging around, playing Parcheesi with Anoia and Minerva and sighing over the old days. It was bad enough dealing with Zeus’ temper tantrums.

She just – pushed – a little here and there. Bent the rules, never broke them. It was all a question of semantics. She made sure Aziraphale and Crowley both met Shadwell. Popped quickly back to the seventeenth century to bless Agnes Nutter (what a remarkable woman. She had enjoyed talking to her. She hadn’t laughed like that in eons). Kept on eye on the Book as it was passed down. Made sure Crowley was the one to hand over the baby and made sure that Sister Mary Loquacious (who really was quite a clever woman in her own way) mixed up the babies and made sure the Dowlings were assigned to Britain for years and made sure that Tadfield was looked after until Adam could do it himself – nothing big, not really. Not interfering as such. Just – a tiny little rearrangement of the pieces on the board.

It all worked to plan, sort of. Aziraphale and Crowley kept Heaven and Hell firmly fixated on Warlock while Adam (lovely name) grew up as a normal kid and learned to love this world and his parents and never want to leave it.

She hung around the archives of Heaven, disguised as a clerk, sorting through all the notes on Aziraphale and Crowley. She read how they had stayed together, saved each other. She recognised the Arrangement in the anomalies that puzzled Heaven and Hell. She looked at the pictures, at the way Crowley guarded Aziraphale, the way Aziraphale gazed at Crowley.

Love. The humans called it love. They had learned what her angels and demons had never grasped. They had learned to love.

_Be enough. Fight for this world for the sake of each other._

Michael snatched the pictures out of Her hand and reprimanded Her for dreaming. God smiled. It had really come to the end of the world if Her own angels didn’t recognise her.

OoOoOoOo

But the final battle had to come, as She knew it would. She could do no more. Well, She could make sure that Aziraphale could find his way back to Crowley. She could make sure the burning Bentley held together. She could make sure they were all there, together, at the end, and She watched.

_Save my world, my angel and my demon._

She thought they were lost. Adam fought the Horsemen, but Gabriel and Beelzebub weren’t going to be robbed of their war. It was all they have lived for during this 6000 years. How could they stop them?

‘Yes, that’s the Great Plan all right. Just wondering, is that the Ineffable Plan as well?’

_Oh, you genius._

God, lying on the tarmac in the guise of an unconscious soldier, watched in joy as Aziraphale and Crowley stood together and faced down Heaven and Hell with a few clever words. Separately, they would have been consumed by doubt and fear. They would have felt constrained to obey. Together – together they were defiant. They were strong. The cage around their hearts gave way a little.

Gabriel was angry.

_You will not hurt them!_

**Try and stop me.**

She was shocked. Gabriel had never answered back before. This was a dangerous precedent. He was prepared to fight her. He had to lose today and tomorrow. It would weaken him. He could not be seen as all-powerful. She was so shaken by his defiance, She wasn’t aware that Satan was coming until it was too late. She looked over at Aziraphale, finally holding his flaming sword once more.

Then he lowered it.

‘Come up with something, or – or I’ll never talk to you again.’

And in their hearts, the cages melted and the fires reached for each other. Nothing, not God or Satan, was worse than their fear of losing each other.

_They have to live._

And time – stopped. Just for a moment. Not God’s will, but Crowley’s. She was surprised. She hadn’t thought him capable of such power. Neither had he, She realised, until Aziraphale asked for it. But the timestop gave her just enough time in a blinking of an eye to nip back to Agnes, get her to put one last prophecy in the book (and have a quick tot of apple scrumpy while She was there), pop back to the airbase, a few moments before, make the prophecy come loose as Crowley threw the book, and float into Aziraphale’s hand. Again, She wasn’t interfering as such. She was just – suggesting.

Of course Adam defeated Satan. It was always remarkably easy to beat Satan in an argument. He tended to lose his temper so quickly. She followed Aziraphale and Crowley to the bench, waiting for the delivery man. She’d talked to him just a few minutes ago, assured him his wife was fine, he just had this one pick-up to do and then he could take a month off, and here is a bonus for dying on the job. Just make sure you get the flaming sword, okay? Now She waited, leaning up against the war memorial, watching her angel and demon, seeing the flames in their hearts tentatively reach for each other.

‘Angel? What if the Almighty planned it like this, all along? From the very beginning?’

‘Could have. I wouldn’t put it past her.’

_Oh, sweetie, I only wish I had – but I could never have planned for you two._

OoOoOoOoO

A week later, a tall American woman walked into Aziraphale’s shop. He stood up as she came in, ready to shoo her away, and Crowley snarled at the interruption.

‘I bring a gift,’ she said. She placed a parcel on the counter. Aziraphale reached to open it, but Crowley stopped him. He was suspicious of strangers bearing gifts.

‘What book would you most like to read?’ she asked. ‘Published or not published? Think carefully, you can only have one.’

Aziraphale looked puzzled, but Crowley had been staring at her.

‘I know you,’ Crowley said. ‘You were in my car once, in 1941. I didn’t see you, but I know it was you.’

‘Oh, Crowley, I have been by your side many times. And you too, Aziraphale. You can’t think how often I have watched you.’

‘That’s a little disturbing, to be honest. Who are you?’

She smiled.

‘I wanted to say thank you.’

‘The book is a thank you gift?’ Aziraphale asked.

‘No, the book is a reward. My thank you gift is your freedom. No-one will ever bother you again, neither from Heaven or Hell.’

Aziraphale’s eyes suddenly widened, and clasped Crowley’s hand tighter. He knew.

‘I thought you’d punish us,’ Aziraphale said softly.

‘Quite the opposite. Thank you. Thank you for saving my world. Now please, live whatever life you choose to live. No-one will stop you.’

She walked away, into the sunshine of Soho. Behind her, she heard Aziraphale and Crowley start to talk, pouring their hearts out to each other, but she didn’t listen. Her part in their lives was over. She took a deep breath. She had always loved Soho, she was so glad Aziraphale and put his bookshop here. She walked down the street, looking for a little coffee shop where She could sit and watch her world, her beautiful world, go by.


End file.
